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In A Town Full Of Secrets
To most people, men like Mark Cantrell are fine, upstanding pillars of the community, completely beyond reproach. But their killer knows better. They are sinners of the worst kind, and they must burn on earth before they burn in hell. . .
Trusting The Wrong Person
Eighteen months after her husband's unsolved murder, Cathy Cantrell has returned to her Alabama home, eager to build a new life for herself and her son. But pieces of her past are everywhere--including Jackson Perdue, the town's deputy sheriff. The spate of recent deaths--each victim burned in the same horrifying manner--leave Jack and Cathy in no doubt that a serial killer is at work, one whose rage grows more vicious each day. . .
Can Be Fatal. . .
Now as a twisted killer moves in for a final, brutal act of vengeance, buried crimes are coming to light once more. And this time, justice will be swift, merciless, and as silent as the grave. . .
“Good enough.” Jack took a deep breath. Mike cleared his throat. “I thought I’d run an idea by you,” Mike said. “That’s the reason I came over uninvited.” “You never need an invitation.” “Don’t happen to have a couple of beers in the house, do you?” “As a matter of fact, I do.” Jack hitched his thumb toward the back porch. “Want to come inside, or would you rather sit out here?” He glanced at the rusty metal lawn chairs on the porch. “Let’s sit out here and enjoy this weather while it lasts.
When I found out you were coming home,” her mother had told her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be driving, but I assumed you would. After all, you wouldn’t have left that place if you weren’t completely well, would you?” Ignoring the comment about her mental health, Cathy had simply said “Thank you, Mother,” taken the keys and left. One of the many truths she had accepted while at Haven Home was the fact that Elaine Nelson would never change. She couldn’t change her mother, but she could change the.
Old carriage house where their stepfather had doled out his own unique brand of punishment. Catherine Cantrell had asked her best friend, Lorie Hammonds, to drive her by her old home, just outside the city limits. She and Mark had lived there for nearly six years before his death eighteen months ago. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lorie asked. “I’m sure. I have to face the past sooner or later.” “But does it have to be today?” Cathy sighed. Yes, it had to be today. One of the many things.
And opened the door. Nolan had always kept the door locked. Jack had no idea where the key was or even if there was a key. Neither he nor Maleah had mentioned the carriage house when they had discussed the possibility of him living here. Leaving the door wide open, Jack entered the dark, dank interior of his teenage hell. In the shadowy darkness, he could make out the workbench, the rows of waist-high toolboxes, the table saw, the push mower, the Weed Eater and various other yard-work devices.
Friendly he is with all the children, but especially the boys. Those poor babies being molested by that monster. It is up to me to put a stop to his evil. He thinks no one suspects, that because none of the children have told anyone about what he’s doing, he is safe. He’s not safe. Not from me. I am God’s instrument of punishment. I have been appointed to be judge, jury and executioner. It is my duty to seek out and destroy evil, the kind of evil that hides behind a priest’s robes, a minister’s.